


Eternity

by TheHuggamugCafe



Series: He’s Crazy For You [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bondage/Blindfolds, Dubious Consent, F/M, Jealousy, Light breathplay, Subtle Manipulation, Tumblr request, husband/wife, incubus!Arsène, yandere!incubus!Arsène
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 01:04:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16923684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHuggamugCafe/pseuds/TheHuggamugCafe
Summary: Eternal punishment would be more preferable than the life you led now.You’re a prisoner in your own home; a cage is still a cage, no matter how comfortable, how pretty it is.Alone during the day, but Arsène makes sure you’re never alone during the night.But in all honesty… Would drowning in loneliness be so terrible?You don’t think so, but…Your husband thinks otherwise.Tonight, he will remind you of it.





	Eternity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Novacorgi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novacorgi/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Manifest](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11453385) by [SeasonalTea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeasonalTea/pseuds/SeasonalTea). 



A hand. A warm, masculine hand wrapped in a leather glove.

That was what you felt surrounding your throat, applying a light pressure. A touch so gentle that it was likened to a feather’s touch, soft and light.

And yet… And yet…

It was close enough to graze the hot, shivering skin of your neck, feeling a leather-covered thumb pressing oh so gently on your windpipe. You dared not to swallow, opting to breathing a muffled gasp past the cloth that was stuffed into your mouth.

The difference between the smooth leather and your skin was palpable, a difference that your body delighted in, betraying a shudder as the hand trailed down your throat.

A second, slightly more noticeable shudder possessed you as the leather fingers traced a path down your throat, down your collarbone, and down to your bare bosom.

Finally, a noise broke the tense tranquility that blanketed your dimly lit bedroom. Your sight had been temporarily taken away from you, thanks to the blindfold that shielded your eyes from his gaze, so your other senses were working on overdrive to make up for your momentary loss of vision.

A laugh. A chuckle. A snicker, malicious but teasing in nature.

Instinctively, you perked up at the noise, much like a child would as they stuck their tiny hand in the air during a lesson, awaiting for their teacher to call on them to answer a question.

However, you hitched in a breath as you felt gloved fingertips toying with an erect nipple, rolling, pinching, and lightly tugging on it as a soft “tsk” was hissed into your ear.

“Now… What do you say, darling?” he asked, breathing a laugh into your ear.

You drew in a breath, feeling your saliva moisten the cloth that gagged you, that took away your ability to properly speak.

“Ah, my apologies, my dearest. You can’t tell me your mistakes if you can’t speak, can you?”

The gloved fingers continued to play with your breast, and the bed you laid on creaked as the man before you shifted, raising a free hand up to your mouth, prying the leather-covered hand into your mouth.

With a fluid motion the makeshift gag was pried from your lips, strings of spit clinging to the cloth material. Short rivers of saliva leaked from your mouth, something which you didn’t dare to lick away.

There was a pause, a short pause. A silence that was broken by a sound.

A gasp, your gasp to be precise.

The fingers that toyed with one breast switched to favour the other, rolling, pinching, and tugging on the taut nipple.

The man before you breathed a laugh into your ear, simpering cruelly at your distress. Distress that he was causing. Distress that he relished to stir within you.

Distress that he loved to see you try to fight, ultimately failing in the battle between your logic and your lust. One would naturally concede to the other.

It was a struggle that your husband, Arsène Lupin, cherished to see play out across your face, laughing as you resorted to begging him to please, please do something, anything to you.

“Speak, my love. You’ll tell your devoted husband how much of a naughty wife you were earlier today, won’t you?” Arsène questioned, peppering your face with kisses as he talked.

You swallowed a gulp, one that you swore was the size of a tennis ball. Your mind struggled to think, to come up with a proper response, but your body was too focused on Arsène’s touch.

When you had first met him, when he had first visited you in your dreams what seemed like a lifetime ago…

You _enjoyed_ hearing his voice.

You _loved_ to feel his hands roaming your body, bare or gloved.

You _adored_ to hear him coo sweet nothings into your ear as he pleased you, and as you pleased him.

You _longed_ for nights when he would visit you, devoting his attention on you and only you, if only for a few short, blissful hours that made you feel like you were in heaven.

However, now…

 _Now_ you shuddered at his touch, a sensation that disgusted you as much as it pleased you.

 _Now_ you retreated from his lips, his hands, yet you always ended up being showered in heated kisses that burned with jealousy, as he hissed and snarled avariciously, as he claimed you as his over and over again.

You always ended up being caressed by hands that held you gently, lovingly, and yet held you so tightly, so possessively, bare or gloved.

You hated it. You loved it.

You hated how he knew how to toy with you.

You loved how he could reduce you to a quivering, blushing mess in his hands, molding you to fit his needs and, in some obscure way, your desires as well.

You wanted it. You needed it. You wanted him. You needed him.

You wanted his lips. 

You needed his touch. 

You wanted to hear him coo sugarcoated compliments into your ear, chuckling at your state of pleasured distress as he expertly teased you.

You wanted him, you needed him, and only him.

The more you tried to deny it, mentally or emotionally, the hotter the fire within you burned. A fire that only he could tame. A fire that only he could rekindle with his kisses, with his touch, with his body, with his—

“ _Nnh!_ ”

A startled moan was forcibly ripped from your lips, a noise that resulted in a simpering croon to worm its way into your ear, a purr that was likened to satin, dark but smooth.

“You aren’t thinking of someone else right now are you, darling? If you are…”

“N-No! No, Arsène! I’m not, I promise! I would… I would never think of— _ahh!_ ”

A sharp tug to your nipple and a sudden, forceful bite to your throat silenced you. The unexpected nip to your skin, the surprise pull on the taut bud of your breast took you aback.

You hitched in a breath, betraying a flustered groan of, “Arsène” into your husband’s ear. A chuckle vibrated against your skin, the part where he had just bitten you.

You felt the demon’s tongue trail up your neck, pressing a wet kiss on the love-bite, applying a light suction as his hand trailed down from your moving chest as you panted, dipping to the moist junction between your legs.

Slowly, carefully, a gloved finger was inserted into your wet core, gently finger fucking your quivering womanhood.

“Ah. Arsène, please. _Please!_ Please. _Arsène_ ,” you whined, your quiet begging resulting in a muffled laugh from the man.

“Patience, my dear rose. Patience. That will come very soon, I promise,” he said, returning to sucking, licking, and gently nipping at your throat.

“However,” he paused, breathing a hum. His tongue lapped at the hickey, his mouth sucked on the lightly bruised skin, his teeth nipped on your throat one last time before pulling away.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice leaving his mouth in a croon that was likened to poisoned candy. 

You felt a hand rising up to your face, you felt gloved fingers hooking into the blindfold that shielded your vision, pulling it away from your eyes.

Once it was removed you blinked a few times, to let your eyes readjust to the play of dim light and encroaching darkness, and when you did…

A pair of gleaming reddish orange irises stared at you.

A devilish glare was pointed at nothing but you.

You swallowed, drawing in a breath as Arsène continued to talk.

“What is it that you did wrong.”

A statement, not a question. You felt beads of cold sweat forming on your crown, dripping down your face.

“What… What I did wrong?” you asked, blinking once.

“…I’m confused, my love. I will do anything and everything for you… You know this, correct?”

“Y-Yes, but…”

“Do I not love you with all of my heart?”

“Yes, but…!”

“Do you not love me with all of your heart?”

“Y-Yes, of course I do, but…”

“Then… Tell me why… Why do you allow other men to stare at you?”

Again, you swallowed, your (e/c) irises quivering as your body shivered. Not in pleasure, despite Arsène’s gloved finger still gently screwing your warm, wet insides, but in terror.

You knew how possessive, how jealous, how violent Arsène could become.

Or at least… You _thought_ you knew, anyway.

What he had recently done topped anything else he’d previously done, literally slaughtered it, in fact.

The only “mistake” you had made was smiling at a complete stranger, thanking him for holding the door open for you as you and Arsène entered the grocery store earlier on that day.

Just like all the others, he had been found dead at a river bank a week later, approximately 5 miles from where you and Arsène lived, his remains picked over by the local wildlife.

“Tell me… Who owns you?”

“Y-You do,” you moaned, taking in a shaky breath.

“Tell me… Who else sees you like this?”

“N-No one else. O-Only you. Only you.”

“Tell me… Who pleasures you every night in bed?”

“You, Arsène. You, you, you. No one else! No one else!”

“Tell me… Do you _want me_? Do you _need me_?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“Tell me… Who loves you more than anyone?”

“You. You, Arsène! Just y-you!”

“Tell me… Do you love me, my dear?”

“I do! I do! I do love you, Arsène! I love you more than life itself!”

Sweet, half-baked lies to tame the Hell-spawned beast…

“Hmm,” he crooned, seemingly pleased. He sounded much like a purring cat…

“You look so stunning like this, my darling. At my mercy beneath me, mewling for me. What a naughty, beautiful wife I have. Now… You know what to do next, don’t you? Show me the fruits of your training, love.”

“Arsène. _Arsène_. Please. _Please_.”

Gone was your restraint, gone was your resolve. Your pride may as well have been cast to the ground, shattering upon contact like glass. The bed creaked as your husband leaned in to whisper in your ear, purring sweet nothings while his hand continued to toy with your aching maidenhood, cupping your leaking sex in the palm of his gloved hand.

“Beg. Let me hear your coos, your whines, your pleas. _Beg for it, sweetheart._ ”

“Arsène. Arsène! Please… Please! Please, please, please take me!”

A fire had long since been lit, kept burning by his touch, his kisses.

You were practically sobbing now. Your chest heaved as you breathed in and out shakily, tears pricked the corner of your eyes. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and shame, but you were simply too aroused to care at the moment.

You would wallow in shame and guilt later on, as you always did.

“So needy… What a good girl you are. You deserve a reward, my love.”

You shuddered, you squirmed, you hitched in a breath as you felt a gloved hand trail down to your spread legs, gently and slowly spreading them further apart. The bed creaked as a sinking feeling developed in your stomach, your heart raced as you felt your husband’s lips pepper the inside of your thighs, inching closer and closer to the glistening treasure between your legs.

“Remember this well, darling, as I claim you over and over and over again tonight.”

“Y-Yes?”

“You’re all mine, pet.”

With a slow, teasing flick of his tongue, your nightly torment began anew, but…

Even so…

You responded in due kindness, mewling in lustful approval as your husband lapped at your leaking entrance, much like a kitten would lap at a bowl of warm milk.

“Yes, Arsène. I’m yours. I will always be yours.”

Sweet white lies to calm the demon. 

The demon you agreed to marry.


End file.
